


R.S.P.

by whooshboomtree



Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Fucking Machines, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:50:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whooshboomtree/pseuds/whooshboomtree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took Axl some time, but he eventually began to wonder if the 'R.S.P.' logo plastered all over the abandoned factory he was investigating stood for 'Reploid Sexuality Project'. Not that now was a very good time to be pondering acronyms, considering his current predicament.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R.S.P.

This was by far the weirdest mission Axl had ever been sent on.

And boy he could tell you, he’d been on some _weird_ missions in his time.  He knew this one would be dangerous, of course.  Infiltration always was, even more so when you walked into it with very little information on just _what_ exactly you were supposed to infiltrate and shut down beyond ‘industrial illegal factory doing some kind of unauthorized work’.

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” he’d insisted to both X and Zero.  “I’ve been on deadlier solo missions before.  The factory doesn’t have any viral signals and I know how to keep to cover and snipe my way out if it gets hairy.  Relax, you guys.”

That had been about four hours ago, and now he was beginning to get frustrated.

For one, he was kind of a little bit lost.  This place was _huge_.  His comm and navigation signals had both dropped out to static just about as soon as he stepped inside, and even more annoying than that, there was no one fucking _here_.

No, legitimately, he hadn’t seen a single other person since he’d gotten here, Reploid, human, or otherwise.

Weird.

As long as he was here, he figured, he may as well gather as much data as he could, try to slap a name to all of this, and maybe take out their central machine room.  What most of this machinery _was_ , he honestly had no idea, but that was for him to scan and R&D to figure out; all he’d found so far were a few logos that said ‘RSP’ in fancy letters.  Jeez this was boring as hell though.  Missions were always boring as hell when it felt like nothing was actually at stake.

He shouldered open the door of a room that he decided was probably suspicious, pausing where he was and running a signal sweep as well as visually scanning the room for anything dangerous, and feeling more disappointed than he should’ve been when he came up with nothing.  Nadda.  Zilch.

God dammit.

Perhaps out of a misguided sense of curiosity, or perhaps out of just plain boredom, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and cautiously made his way inside, grabbing quick scan data on any machinery that came into his line of sight.  At some point he seriously actually did need to find an actual way out of here.  A fucking map would be nice.

“Man, this bites,” he said aloud, crossing the room to sit down on a metal table and still running proximity and signal sweeps all the while.  Abandoned factory or not, he really didn’t want to do something stupid and get stabbed in the back while his guard was down.  “Worst.  Infiltration.  Ever.”

It was unfortunate, really, that countless years of working with guns- not just plasma guns, mind you, but old-style lead-and-powder guns as well- had significantly dulled his sense of smell.  It wasn’t normally an issue; he could still detect strong scents like garlic and coolant, after all, but had his olfactory receptors been working properly, he likely would’ve detected the faint, acrid odor that hung in the air in this room in particular, a little like human sweat, if a bit saltier.

As it was, he didn’t notice anything odd until he felt an intangible pull against his shoulder, the magnetic force instantly sending a number of combat protocols in his systems whirring online.  Not that it did much good when the force suddenly increased enough to yank him downwards and slam his back into the table with a loud clang.

“Ow,” he said, feeling a dull ache throbbing through the back of his skull seeing as how being suddenly flung downward had smacked his head relatively hard.  “Okay that was rude,” he said.  “Not to mention cheating.”  He grunted, making an attempt to sit up and huffing in displeasure when he realized that the table _itself_ was magnetized.

Greaaaat.

“‘Kay whoever’s sitting around laughing their ass off at me right now this isn’t funny!” Axl called, immediately starting to send out what amounted to wireless data scrambler signals.  Enough of them, he knew, would screw up an electromagnet to the point of non-functionality, and then he could make a clean escape.

That was the plan, at least, until a syringe jabbed into his forearm.

“Hey- _ow_!” he yelped, immediately feeling a wave of heat radiating from the injection site.  “Freaking Asimov, what the hell _is_ that stuff . . .”  Nanites of some kind, he assumed by what his system scans were telling him.  And wow that heat was rushing up his arm and through his bicep and into his shoulder and neck and . . . and . . .

Oooooh, that was making him dizzy.

Fuck, okay, this wasn’t funny any more.  He _needed_ to get an encoded emergency signal out, and thankfully his systems could do that automatically while he worked on freeing himself, even if it would take several minutes to send.  Focus, calm down and breathe and focus and _whoa_ okay what was that _thing_ near his mouth.

He blinked several times, vaguely aware of metal cuffs latching around his wrists to further restrain him to the table, and of sturdy, wire-like lashings wrapping around his ankles.  “This is starting to get a little kinky, don’tcha think?” he said, wondering if there was someone actually controlling all of this nonsense, or if it was entirely automated.

As his optics adjusted to focus on the object that was near his face, the perpetual eight-year-old part of him couldn’t help but think ‘wow that thing really looks like a dick’, even as the Hunter in him was going ‘holy shit I really need to get out of this’.  He hissed in displeasure when another syringe jabbed into his arm, relieved that the wooziness wasn’t affecting his process of sending out his emergency ‘oh god please help me’ signal.

What did actually start to freak him out a little was the presence of little mechanical arms starting to feel their way around his waist, and it quickly became clear that their intention was to find the latches that kept his pelvic armor in place.

“O-okay hey hey no no no!” he protested, trying to squirm and making a noise of displeasure when the magnets still holding him down prevented him from doing just that.  “Okay okay hands off, you creep- ghhhh, what the hell . . .”

That . . . that heat was spreading.  That heat was spreading to places he really didn’t want it to spread.  Oh fucking shit, that was _not good_.

Having a hard-on while still in full armor sucked.  A lot.

He made another futile attempt to squirm, a cold pang of actual serious unease striking him when he heard the telltale _click_ of his pelvic armor’s latches disengaging, and for once in his life he kind of wished the thing was made as one piece instead of a front half and a back half.  Sure it would be a pain in the ass to put on, but in this case he kind of wished it would’ve been more of a pain in the ass to take off.

So maybe it was a tiny bit of a relief because seriously erections and metal armor didn’t mix, but he was beginning to shiver a bit with nervousness at this point, particularly when the little mechanical arms gave his torso armor a similar treatment, and managed to get it unlatched that much faster no less.  Axl gave a low growl of frustration as both of the armor pieces were discarded to the floor, relieved to find that his systems had _finally_ managed to send their emergency signal.  No telling how long it would take someone to get here, but that was still a start.  Particularly since he was getting too woozy to even use his A-Trans at this point.

The little metal arms paused their ‘work’ just long enough to switch their tips to several sets of small claws- swiss army hands, Axl mused to himself dryly- and they were quick to go after his bodysuit, the sharp points beginning to work at tearing holes in the tight-fitting material over his pectorals and once they finished that they shifted down to do the same to his groin and oh . . .

Oh, _no_ . . .

He felt the metallic wires around his ankles tug his legs up into a pair of odd, cylindrical restraints, and he visibly _blushed_ when he realized the . . . compromising position this had put him in, especially with the way the clawed ‘hands’ had succeeded in tearing through his bodysuit to expose him.  He . . . he really didn’t want anyone to find him restrained on his back with his legs spread like this.  Especially not X or Zero.

Oh god he’d _die_ if X or Zero saw him like this.

A bit idly, as the machine adjusted and tightened the restraints on his legs and ankles, he began to wonder if the ‘S’ in ‘RSP’ stood for ‘sex’ or some variant of the word, because this had gotten extremely uncomfortably sexual extremely quickly.  Reploid sexuality project, maybe?

Now really wasn’t the time to be pondering acronyms.

His breath sped up just slightly when a tube-like device lowered down to settle around his length, all the way to the base, no less.  This . . . this was actually a thing, he was actually legitimately getting fucked by a machine.

Okay a non-Reploid machine.

He bit his lower lip to stifle a quiet whimper when the machine ‘got to work’, as it were, the soft rubber-like material inside the tube beginning to move in a rippling motion not unlike someone’s hand pumping upwards along his shaft to coax a bit of precum out of him.  Being a new-generation Reploid, or at least a prototype of one, he had been built . . . fully equipped, as it were, and as close to human as possible anatomy-wise, sexual fluids included.

Still, better fucked than killed, he mused to himself silently.  And it had been . . . a little over a month since he’d gotten any with how busy things had been around HQ.  The tube around his dick was pretty warm and kind of pleasantly soft and it was doing . . . a damn nice job of putting his pre to good use in smoothing out the gentle rippling motions.

Sh . . . shit . . .

“A-ah-”  The noise of pleasure slipped out before he could stop it, his chest rising and falling shakily as he began to tremble with nervous anticipation.  He . . . he really needed to get out of this, who _knows_ what kind of data was being gathered, probably data that could be used against him in one way or another.  But it wasn’t like he could _do_ anything until X or Zero or some rescuer got here!

He heard a soft whir somewhere over his head, and he gulped audibly when the machine lowered down what looked like a pair of small clamps, the little devices settling onto his chest and making him wince as they latched onto his exposed nipples.  “Nnh . . . h-hey, take it easy, that doesn’t actually feel goo- OOH!”

His attempt to protest turned into a high whine when the device sent a weak pulse of electricity through the clamps, the shock making him tense and arch his back and shiver with a strange kind of delight.  That . . . _did_ feel good, aw hell . . .

He gradually relaxed down into the sensation, feeling the low-voltage shocks pulsing through him in a slow, steady rhythm, likely as much to rile him up as anything else.  This . . . this was _so_ not fair, it was like being teased and toyed with while simultaneously getting a slow, sensual handjob and . . . and he didn’t want to admit it but he _liked_ it.  Kind of like laying back and letting someone lavish attention all over him except the ‘someone’ in this case was a freaky-ass fuck machine.

Well truth be told he’d been called a kinky bastard by more than one partner in his time.

A shaky sigh of satisfaction rose in his chest, though that quickly turned into a whimper and a shiver when he felt something cold, slick, and metallic pressing against his ass.  Ohh, Asimov, this thing was an actual _fuck_ machine, wasn’t it, oh Asimov . . . Granted, he was glad that it had the sense to use lube, but this . . . this . . . this day was turning out _really really weird okay_.

He tried to squirm and wriggle away, intrigued but unsurprised to find that the magnets plastering him down had gotten deactivated at some point.  Likely because he was restrained to the point where he didn’t _need_ to be magnetized to a table to be kept in place.  All the same, he _usually_ asked to be fingered a little before actually having something dick-sized shoved up his ass particularly something that felt like it was sized and shaped like a pretty damn _big_ dick and- okay nope no fingering apparently it was just going to do as it pleased.

His mouth fell open in a loud whine at the press inwards that he didn’t actually really want yet, his breath hitching and his body tensing and shuddering involuntarily at the sensation of being stretched and penetrated by something that . . . big.  Before he could manage to close his mouth to swallow, another pulse of electricity made him gasp-

And that was when the machine decided now was a good time to use that dick-shaped thing that had been hovering near his face for some time now.

More specifically, it shoved said dick-shaped thing directly into his mouth, causing him to give a muffled cry of surprise and attempt to shake his head in protest.  At once, he could taste something vaguely sweet dripping onto his tongue, and as much as he didn’t want to swallow it he kind of didn’t have a lot of choice but _to_ swallow it.  And as soon as he did he felt a rush of warmth through his entire systems, the feeling somehow encouraging him to give the metallic shaft an experimental suckle, as if he was wondering if doing so would coax out more of the sweet fluid.

It did, and he felt a guilty kind of delight at the realization, immediately beginning to lick and suckle at the shaft in a very similar fashion to how he’d suck a sentient partner off.  Not that machines made very good partners- they didn’t moan or wriggle or groan near enough- but this one was at least programmed to make someone feel pretty damn good.

Whatever was in the sweet fluid- some kind of modified nanites, Axl assumed- was making him relax almost involuntarily, all of his muscles gradually loosening up little by little.  As he relaxed, he felt the shaft pressing its way deeper into his ass, and a low moan rose in his chest as it fell into a slow pattern of thrusting in, sliding most of the way out, and then thrusting in again, a little farther each time.

This was . . . _so_ wrong, but it felt _so_ good . . .

His thoughts were beginning to get a bit hazy, fewer and fewer complaints and protests running through his mind by the minute as the machine began to work up its rhythm.  He was still coherent enough, however, to note that it seemed to respond to noise, thrusts inside of him and rippling strokes across his shaft slowing when he held his breath and fell silent, and gradually speeding when he allowed himself to sigh and whimper with approval.  If he wanted to, he realized, he could probably use that to his advantage and edge himself like crazy.

A bit hesitantly, he gave a small roll of his hips to match an inward thrust of the metal shaft, feeling the tube around his length retreat its focus to his tip as he did so.  He made a muffled noise of surprised satisfaction, and it took him but a moment to find the machine’s rhythm and match it, at the same time feeling the shaft in his mouth falling into the same pace as the one up his ass.  Ooh, this thing was programmed with detail in mind, wasn’t it, just like a sentient partner would press into his mouth to encourage him to give more . . .

He complied with a quiet moan of pure satisfaction, closing his eyes and lapping probably a bit too eagerly at the shaft in his mouth to draw out every bit of the sweet fluid that it was willing to give him.  The machine was very clearly working its way up toward a hard, rough pace, and Axl gasped and arched his back with a loud moan when it suddenly jerked its full length into him all at once.  Ohh shit, oh shit . . .

The gunner swallowed again, relieved that whatever was being steadily trickled into his mouth was quick to relax him enough to where the deep penetration eased from discomfort into pleasure within a few moments.  “Mmmh- mm-mmuhhh,” he complained when the machine suddenly decided to just _stop_ for a few seconds and simply ripple and tease lightly up and down his shaft.  That . . .

That . . . wasn’t . . . _fair_!

“Mmmh- nnnnnh- mmh!” he whined out, opening his eyes to glare down at the various mechanical parts that were _supposed_ to be pleasuring him.  He wriggled in place, feeling a wave of throbbing desperation beginning to settle itself in his groin.  “Mm-mmm . . . !”

Oh you could not tell him the stupid thing had suddenly broken when he was this far along.

He flexed his wrists against the metal restraints with a growl of frustration, grunting and trying to thrust his hips against the tube still rippling oh-so-teasingly over his dick.  “Mm-mmm- hm-mmhn mm!”

A loud noise of protest escaped him when he felt the metal shaft slide out of him entirely, leaving him feeling empty and stretched and all-too-needy.  This wasn’t fair this so wasn’t fair it couldn’t just stop and _leave_ him like this!  It _couldn’t_ -

He lifted his head slightly, a tremor running through him when he saw that the shaft that had previously been up his ass had been lifted aside and replaced with one that was in fact _longer and wider_ , not to mention quite thoroughly coated and practically dripping with cold, slick lube.  O-oh no, that . . . that was too big, there was no . . . no way he could . . .

A soft, nervous whimper escaped him, and he swallowed another mouthful of the sweet fluid to help relax himself.  At . . . at least he was already significantly stretched and slicked up, but . . .

Oh god . . .

He took a few shaky breaths to calm his nerves, all but forcing his body not to tremble when he felt the cold, slick shaft pressing against him to line itself up.

And _oh sweet damn it didn’t waste any time_.

Axl gave a muffled yell when the thick metal rod practically slammed into him, his back arching once again and his whole body tensing with a kind of pleasure he could neither explain nor wanted to.  The machine gave no pause this time, pulling out only partway before thrusting in hard again and eliciting another loud cry from the helpless gunner.  It knew _just_ how to ghost over his sweet spot without pushing him over the edge, too, and he’d never been treated this roughly before but oh _dear sweet Asimov_.

At the same time, the tube around his shaft had tightened significantly, the precum-slicked rubber interior simply _holding_ there on his length and moving in tight rubs and ripples against his tip and across the edges of his slit.  His body jerked and shook with each thrust, the machine giving him no quarter at this point and seeming to respond to his increasingly loud cries and yells of delight with faster, rougher treatment, not to mention more frequent sparks and pulses of electricity through the clamps on his nipples.

Ohhh sweet Asimov he wasn’t going to last like this . . . !

The machine whirred softly as the restraints on his legs shifted, lifting the lower half of his body up a bit higher to give the metal shaft the perfect angle to thrust directly at his sweet spot, and Axl closed his eyes and let his head fall back, a near-scream escaping him at the first rush of pleasure and a very _definite_ scream tearing from his throat when the rough treatment simply _continued_ at that very same angle without so much as a pause.

His systems slammed over with white hot bliss as he orgasmed _hard_ , far harder than he ever had in his life, cum spurting from his tip into the tube around his shaft as he shrieked and writhed helplessly through his pleasure.  That somehow seemed to be a signal to the machine, and a moment later he gave another muffled cry when the metal shaft that had been so roughly fucking him released a hot, wet flood of what he could only assume was artificial cum of some kind, pressing as far in as it could go as it ‘came’ as if to ensure that it emptied its load as deep inside of his ass as possible.

His shriek trailed off into a low moan, and he’d all but forgotten about the shaft in his mouth until it suddenly seemed to be spurred into a release of its own, his moans only increasing in volume when he felt warm, salty fluid spurting and trickling into his mouth and throat, far more than a Reploid would normally be able to produce, he realized.  He was too blissfully exhausted to do any more than make soft noises of pleasure as he swallowed as much as he could manage, the taste making him practically shudder with hot, dirty contentment.

He felt one more weak trickle from the shaft up his ass, another dribble from the one in his mouth, and then the devices at last retreated, the one inside of him pulling out with a wet, sloppy noise and making him shudder, and the tube around his dick sliding off with an audible, slick-sounding _pop_.  The shaft in his mouth pulled away as well, and he took a shaky breath and relaxed as the machine lowered his backside down onto the table and released the restraints around his legs, the clamps loosening and retreating alongside the rest of the machinery and leaving his nipples sore and bright red and perky.  He could feel the artificial cum trickling out his ass steadily, but he didn’t have the strength to do much more than shiver a bit and lay there on his back and pant, more cum and saliva that he hadn’t managed to swallow leaking from his open mouth and leaving a thin trail of white down the side of his jaw.

“Axl!”

He was only vaguely aware of the call of his name, and it was a few moments before his systems worked up the responsiveness to convince him to turn his head toward the sound.  His optics were blurred and out of focus, but it was kind of hard to mistake the blue thing and the red-and-yellow thing coming toward him as anything other than X and Zero.

Nice timing, he thought dryly.

Zero immediately moved to scout the room for anything dangerous, while X took a satchel of medical supplies and equipment off of his shoulders and began giving Axl a quick once-over.  “Hey, Axl, are you with me?” he asked, quickly ascertaining that the gunner had sustained no life-threatening injuries.  “Are you all right?”

Axl simply blinked, too exhausted to answer, and X pulled a tightly rolled blanket from his satchel of supplies and shook it out, laying the soft material over Axl’s body before turning his head toward Zero.  “He’s not hurt, but he’s pretty unresponsive.”  It was . . . very clear that neither of them really had to ask what had happened; the evidence was fairly obvious, after all.

“Could make a lot of money selling equipment like this for recreational use,” Zero muttered, having taken to examining several of the mechanical parts suspended over the table Axl was splayed out on.  “Or to the wrong sick bastard on the black market.”

“Torture devices?” X suggested.

“Sexual torture,” Zero replied, his lips curled into a scowl.  “Whoever’s behind this has hell coming down on their heads.”

“Got . . . got scans,” Axl mumbled, finally managing to find the strength to speak up.  “Of all the st . . . stuff.  Needa . . . get data to . . .”  He took a shaky breath, his eyes slipping shut for a moment before he blinked again and tried to lift his head.  “R&D.”

X and Zero exchanged a glance, and Zero nodded, turning and moving for the doorway to issue orders to have the factory surrounded by guards and Hunters until further notice; as it turned out, Axl’s emergency signal breaking through the factory’s scramblers had given them the data they needed for a direct two-way teleport and comm line out.  “We can do that later, Axl,” X said, picking up his satchel and swinging it over his shoulder again.  “For now, let’s get you out of here and get you cleaned up a bit.  You okay with being carried?”

Axl nodded groggily, murmuring something unintelligible when X’s arms slipped underneath his body, and it took him but a few moments to nuzzle up against the Lightbot’s chest.  “M’okay,” he assured.  “Jus’ tired n’sore.  Wanna hot bath . . .”

“I think that much can be arranged,” X said with a half-smile, relieved that Axl seemed more tired than shaken by . . . whatever he’d been through.  He made sure that the gunner was secure in his arms before he moved for the doorway to give Zero a nudge, the blond quickly finishing his communication and turning to face them.  “I’m gonna get Axl out of here,” X said quietly.  “We’ll be in my room; no way in hell do I want to make him explain this to a medic.”

“Fair deal,” Zero said with a nod.  “I’ll join you guys as soon as this place is surrounded and secured.”  He frowned slightly, reaching over to give Axl’s shoulder a nudge.  “Get some rest, alright kiddo?”

Axl mumbled a soft agreement, apparently already most of the way asleep.  “See you in a bit,” X said, offering Zero a small smile before calling up his teleportation signal and warping out.

 

***

 

To X’s relief, Axl seemed to come around fairly quickly once they were back at HQ and in the bathroom that connected X and Zero’s adjacent bedrooms, the sound of running water in the bathtub rousing the gunner from his doze.  “Bath,” he mumbled, lifting his head from where X had settled him down on the rug with his back leaned up against the cupboard under the sink.  “Oh, good, you were listening to that.  ‘Cause I wasn’t kidding.”

“I didn’t figure you were,” X said.  “You alright . . . ?”

“For the most part.”  Axl shifted to push the blanket off of his body, looking down at himself and grimacing slightly.  “Ergh . . . can you help me stand up for a sec?  I’m . . . kinda sore.”

X nodded, crouching down and hooking an arm under Axl’s shoulders to gently ease him to his feet and help him peel off what was left of his tattered bodysuit, as well as his few remaining armor pieces.  Axl had joined both X and Zero for enough nights of ‘tension relief’ to where he didn’t so much as flinch about being exposed in X’s presence- not that any of the three of them were officially dating, but they may as well have been at this point for how often they spent time together.  “Easy,” the Lightbot murmured, helping Axl ease down into the hot water.  “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Axl sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.  “God, my ass hurts like nothing else.”  And so did his chest, in all honesty; those clamps did not leave a pleasant aftermath.  “Thank god my signal actually made it out.”

“We were starting to get worried anyway,” X said, settling down on his knees and leaning his forearms on the edge of the tub.  “What happened . . . ?”

Axl opened one eye to give X a _look_ , and the Lightbot sighed and rolled his eyes.  “All right, I’m aware of _that_ happening, but I was hoping for a little more detail.  Are you _okay_ , Axl?”

The gunner allowed his eyes to drift shut again, folding his hands on his stomach and trying to relax a bit.  “One minute I’m bored out of my mind wandering around an abandoned factory getting scans, next I’m sitting down on a metal table and the thing suddenly magnetizes me down and holds me in place.  And it kinda . . . uh, proceeded from there.  As you probably figured out.”  He shivered slightly in spite of the heat of his bath, sinking down a little farther underwater.  “Hell, X . . . Zee’s gotten plenty rough with me before, but nothing . . . nothing like _that_.  That was . . .”

X frowned in concern, reaching over to run a hand through Axl’s hair as if to comfort him.  “I think it was gathering data,” Axl went on quietly.  “I saw some logos scattered around that said ‘RSP’, probably ‘Reploid Sexuality Project’ or something like that.  And I mean, mind you, if you could actually control the stupid machine I could see how people would pay a _lot_ for something like that.  For recreational use or . . . less wholesome ideas.”

“Zero said the same thing,” X agreed with a slow nod.  “We’ll have t-”

“What’d I say this time?” the blond’s voice broke in as the door clicked open, Zero having already changed out of his armor into casual civilian attire.  “Hey, kiddo.  You’re looking more lively already.”

“Kinda,” Axl said.  “And in answer to your question, I agree that all that equipment is probably being produced to eventually make some huge cash on the black market.”  He stretched, looking down at himself again and seeming to cringe slightly when he felt a little bit of fluid that was apparently still left behind trickle out his ass.  “Eugh . . . anyhow, I got a crapton of data on the place regardless.  I’ll throw it on a datapad and get it to R&D in a bit.”

“Got you covered,” X said, standing up to grab the satchel he’d tossed into the sink and quickly fishing out a datapad and cable.  “Go ahead and get it downloaded now and I’ll take it down to R&D for you so you can rest.”

“You’re the best,” Axl said with a tired smile, taking the cable and clipping one end into the port on the back of his neck, allowing X to connect the other to the datapad and set it on the edge of the tub.

He didn’t say much else for a while, content to listen to X and Zero quietly discussing their next move or the possible larger implications of any of this.  “Data’s downloaded,” he finally piped up when his bath started getting cold.  “I think I’m gonna dry off and go lay down.”

“You want me to stay with you a while, kid?” Zero asked, still looking moderately concerned.

A pause, and then Axl nodded, quite honestly not wanting to be alone with his overly active imagination at this point.  Zero helped him to his feet and handed him a towel to dry off, and X scooped up the datapad and his satchel of medical supplies, promising to be back as soon as he dropped of the scan results and got some paperwork collected.  “No really,” Axl quipped, managing to regain a little bit of his usual good humor.  “You don’t have to get my paperwork for me.  It’s not like I want anything to do with it.”

X reached over to ruffle the gunner’s hair affectionately, and Axl’s lips curled into a tired if genuine smile.

He was never more relieved to be able to flop down on Zero’s bed and close his eyes, the blond laying down next to him and placing a hand on his arm.  “You gonna be alright?” Zero asked softly.

“You guys sure are fretting about me a lot,” Axl said with a quiet laugh.  “I’ll be fine after I rest.”  And once the soreness eased up, because god _damn_ his ass still hurt.  “I might need a couple days before I can run full sprints, but I’ll be okay.  I don’t think I’m gonna spend time in abandoned factories by myself any more though.”

Zero shook his head in amusement, rubbing Axl’s arm soothingly to help him relax.  “Go the hell to sleep,” he muttered, though there was no denying the relief and affection in his gaze.

As Axl gradually began to drift into hibernation, part of him couldn’t help but wonder how exactly his systems would respond next time he actually voluntarily tried to have sex with someone.  That treatment had been rough enough to quite literally make him helplessly _scream_ , after all.

He honestly had no idea how his body would respond to an attempt at slow and sensual at this point, if it would respond at all.

Well.

That would be something to experiment with later, he supposed.  It was almost a pity that the factory would probably have to be shut down and everything in it either confiscated or destroyed.

A machine like that he could actually _control_ \- and by extension that wouldn’t magnetize him to a table and fuck him up the ass without asking permission first- would admittedly be kind of fun to have around.


End file.
